Ok, maybe more than a little. You see, I have this self-imposed deadline to have everything done. That deadline is Saturday, July 23rd, which is the day of my baby shower, which is going to be at my house, which means that people are going to want to see Rose’s room & I really, really want it to be perfect & picture-ready at that point. July 23rd is only TWO WEEKS from today. And I’m feeling really, really anxious.

And last night, I told Bobby that I was stressing & his response? “You’ll be alright” while barely looking up from his laptop. Um, NOT ok, dear husband. You could at least PRETEND to care about what I’m saying. I got up & left the room. He apologized later… something like “I’m sorry you think I don’t listen.” Does that count as a real apology? I’m just frustrated with him, with his lack of concern, with everything. And I know I’m being a little bit emotional, but knowing that doesn’t make me feel any less meltdowny.

I have all these projects that are started, but not finished. This is kind of my MO… I don’t finish things. So I made a mega-list of everything I needed to complete the things I’ve already started, & yesterday, I embarked into the world. I wandered around for SEVEN hours, & I still didn’t get it all done. I feel like my life is full of wasted motion right now… I putter & wander & ponder & pause & before I know it, another day has passed & I still haven’t accomplished anything. And I know it’s my fault — if I were still working, I could use my job as an excuse. I could say “Well, as soon as I quit my job, I’ll get everything done.” But I’m not working, & there’s absolutely no excuse for my lack of focus & efficiency.

It’s times like these that I really, really miss Mama. I mean, I miss her all the time, but no one understood my “Sarah spells” like she did. She would sit me down & help me make a list & then she would keep me on track & miraculously, we would finish it all because she was a doer and a force to be reckoned with once she put her mind to something. But she’s not here, & I miss her. A lot. So much my heart physically aches. The tears are so close to the surface all the time… I’m overwhelmed by all the ways that she should be here & she’s not. There’s a giant hole in everything — Jennifer telling me which baby clothes are from Mama & me feeling frantic to mark them, identify them in some way to make sure that they are given priority.

And even something so seemingly innocuous as a can-opener becomes a cause for tears… Jennifer was at my parents’ house last weekend & found a bag with three brand-new can-openers in it. Three identical items means that it’s one for each of her girls. We found so many sets of three during the first year after she left, & now, almost 4 years later, there’s yet another set of three. Another reminder of unfinished plans, of something that she didn’t have the chance to complete. I wonder what she would think about the nursery that I’m doing for Rose. I wonder if she would like her name. I wonder how things would be different if she had never left, or if she could just miraculously drop back into our lives as they are now. I have enough of Mama in me to know her opinions… But what I would give to actually hear her voice. To have her sit next to me on the sofa & when I garble my words & tears because I feel like I’m behind & spinning my wheels, she would calmly say, “Sarah, make a list. Make a list & we’ll figure it out.” And together, we would.

I miss my mama. I’m 33 years old, married for 8 years, 7.5 months pregnant with my first child. And yet inside, I’m a little girl who really, really just misses her mama.

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